The Witch the Whip His Wife and Her Lover

Author's Note:

This seed of this story was planted by Ozhojabbe's Alter-Right, which inverts the more traditional structure of the EMC stories that relate directly to politics. I enjoyed the tale, but wanted to see similar concepts developed over a longer span, and wanted to go a different direction with the protagonist.

The beliefs and behaviours presented by of some characters in the following story can be very unpleasant, and these are not condoned by me, nor are they in any way representative of my own views in real life.

Prologue

Mistress leaned in closer. She could feel her hot breath on the side of her neck. She was almost shaking with anticipation.

"Assume the position." The perfect Black words echoed in Pet's mind in perfect synchronicity as Mistress spoke.

Pet dropped the remains of her clothes on the floor, mounted the bed, got down on all fours, and pushed her ass as high into the air as it could go. She could hear the gentle clicking of Mistress' heels as she walked over to put her bag down on the bench at the far side of the room. As she walked back, Pet was blessed with a momentary glimpse of her Mistress in profile. She wore a tight, gray, low-cut sweater, a short skirt and a delightful pair of stockings.

"Did you do as I asked?" Mistress said, running a hand along the base of her spine, slowly moving up to her neck. She tingled all over.

"Yes Mistress," she replied, feeling a jolt of pleasure as the words escaped her lips. "I did everything exactly like you taught me."

"That's

very

good, Pet," Mistress said, gently massaging the top of her scalp with one hand. This was heaven. All those years spent on vapid pursuits, all that life wasted on that vile man had meaning now. They all led

here

.

"I'm

so

pleased with your progress. Now, let's begin with some basic revision." She gestured downward.

Pet salivated at the thought. She crawled down to the floor, helped Mistress out of her panties, lifted the skirt and started pleasuring her with her tongue. Pet was still new to this side of sexuality, but she was making good progress. Mistress was writhing and moaning as Pet enthusiastically pleasured her.

"Now... oh... let's start off simple. What -mmmm- what are the three components of any spell?"

"Verbal, Material, and Somatic, Mistress," she replied, speaking quickly to disrupt her service as little as possible.

"Ohh yess, yes that's right. Keep going, oh yes," she said. Pet was unsure if Mistress meant for her to keep pleasuring her or to elaborate on her answer. Eventually she settled on both.

"Verbal components are the words or phrases of power necessary to invoke the weave," she said, thrusting her tongue back inside Mistress for a short moment before continuing, "Material components are the objects that color it." She homed in on a particularly sensitive spot, then moved to complete her answer. "The Somatic components are the gestures that focus it."

Where pleasing Mistress was concerned, nothing felt like work - she was so focused on her task that minutes passed in the blink of an eye. Mistress would ask questions, and Pet would answer them. She'd been no good at studying in her college days, but with Mistress, everything was different. She would study relentlessly, and the beautiful Black thoughts would enter her mind like gentle kisses, brushing aside all thoughts of distraction and disobedience, no matter how far she was from her divine presence.

Mistress grabbed her head and pushed it firmly into her crotch with one hand, and tugged on her hair with the other. She started tensing up her muscles. Pet redoubled her efforts. Mistress' moans became louder and more regular. Mistress came.

"Mmmmmmm, that's exactly what I needed," she said. "Now what would a good little Pet want?" Mistress continued. Pet didn't have to think, the response came automatically.

"The Whip, Mistress. Please punish me,

please...

" she said. The form of the beautiful Black instrument was burned into her mind. It

was

pleasure. It

was

obedience. Mistress crossed the room, then returned. Pet straightened her posture. Mistress sat down on the bed beside her, and started whispering the familiar incantation under her breath. Pet knew exactly what that meant. Her pussy was practically dripping in response. Mistress ran the beautiful Black Whip along the curve of her ass. She shook involuntarily.

In one smooth movement, Mistress raised the whip and struck her with it. Pet let out a yelp that turned into a moan halfway through. Mistress struck her again, and then again. Pet started to float away, leaving the entire world behind. Her whole mind was a single, unified experience. Everything was ecstasy. Everything was Black.

Chapter 1

Senator Jonathan Delacroix was practically giddy. He clicked on the cell and entered "yes". It turned a pale green. There weren't a lot of people who could get so excited about a spreadsheet, but there also weren't a lot of people who'd made party whip in the state senate by age thirty-three. His job was to wrangle votes and enforce party discipline, and thus far, the work was agreeing with him. He checked over the numbers again, and he was positively

sure

of it - this was going to work. He picked up his phone.

"Julie, put me through to Senator Blake." he said.

"Yes Senator," she replied. A few moments later. The phone buzzed again.

"Jonathan, just the man I wanted to hear from. How's it looking for Thursday?" said Richard Blake.

"Everybody in the party is confirmed. The independents are a maybe," he said, kicking back in his chair. "I'm going to chat with them later today, and if we can get them..."

"Then it's a slam dunk," Senator Blake said. "You're a goddamn miracle worker Jonathan. How the hell did you convince Daniels?"

"Come on, you can't expect me to give away all my secrets. But I will say it involved a lot of drinking." He said, laughing.

"If you can put up with that idiot for an evening then I think you're the best damn whip we've ever had, Jonathan," he replied.

"You should wait until Thursday to hold off on the celebrations. Oh, I forgot to mention - I've got a new intern coming in for an interview today."

"Did the first one file a suit against you already?" said Richard.

"No, not quite yet. My wife's been hounding me for a week about taking on this new girl. Met her at the gym, apparently - must have made a damn strong impression. She's a twofer though. A new intern to help around the office

and

a black a person on my staff. Gonna be a great photo op!"

"I'm not racist," said Richard, doing his best to imitate Jonathan, "some of my favorite fucktoys are black!" The two men laughed smugly. "How is the old gal anyway?"

"Cheating I think. How about yours?"

"Same," he replied. They both laughed. "But hey, if she ever needs somebody new to cheat with, just send her my way," he said. Jonathan laughed awkwardly, but he knew that Richard had spent quite a bit of time at functions leering at her. Still, having him onside was important.

"You know what the best part about all of this is going to be?" Richard said after a pause. "The Honorable Christine Summers."

"We're gonna wipe the smile of that cunt's face," Jonathan said, grinning broadly. "I'll promise you that much."

Senator Delacroix decided to pace himself that morning. The meetings were all teed up and his calendar was free until the interview with the new girl. He always felt a little uneasy accessing the shadier parts of the net from an official government connection, so he tethered the computer to his phone before browsing to 4chan.

It wasn't the sort of thing he'd admit to, but Jonathan credited his election in part to keeping his ear to the ground in these sorts of places. There was a powerful demographic that had grown for years in places just like it which was only recently finding it's voice in mainstream politics. Jonathan was savvy enough to ride that wave into power, while others got swept away by it. He checked the politics board for any quality memes, but mostly it was just shitposting. Trolling the boards was redundant,

pissing into an ocean of piss

as the saying went, but if you could cut through all the noise you could see new consensuses forming and new narratives that could be taken out of this madhouse and pushed into the real world via several intermediary layers - your YouTube pundits, your alt-right news sites, any kind of social media site, really. Today, though, he was just here for a laugh.

* * *

"The new intern is here for the interview," said Julie. "Shall I send her in?"

"No that's fine, I'll come out and meet her in a few minutes, I've just got to track down Miss Smith. Is she around?" he said.

"I think she's down with the photocopier," Julie said.

"Thanks."

He stood up from his desk and headed on out, patting Julie on the shoulder as he went past. She was a good sort, for the most part. Good enough at her job, quiet, and not too harsh on the eyes for someone in their mid-forties. As he walked past her desk he did a quick scan.

"Wait, did you have the documents I needed for today printed?" She looked around on her desk or a moment, mortified.

"I'm sorry sir, I don't know what happened, I just go-" he cut her off.

"You're

sorry

? Fucking fix it. I need those documents

now

!" he practically shouted. Julie shrank.

"Yes sir, at once sir," she said. She was trying to keep her composure, but was on the verge of crying. He suppressed a smile. July was quite loyal, but Jonathan still took great pleasure reminding her of her place from time to time.

In the corridor, he found Miss Sandra Smith heading back to her desk with a stack of papers. Sandra started a fortnight ago, and he hadn't been able to get her out of his head ever since. She was exactly the kind of girl that drove him wild - young, short, blonde and busty. She loved to wear bold red lipstick, which was a particular favorite of his, too. He almost licked his lips just thinking about it. She looked up at him with her big blue eyes and he smiled at her.

"Good morning, Miss Smith," he said. She giggled.

"Please, I told you to call me Sandra, Sir."

"And I told

you

to call me Jonathan," he replied. He swept his gaze down to her body and then back up to her eyes, making sure she noticed. She looked away and blushed.

Oh yeah, I'm gonna fuck you, I'm gonna fuck you reaaal good

, he thought. "I'm just going to go out and welcome your new partner in crime, but I'll be out most of the day afterwards. You stay out of trouble, alright?"

"Yes sir- I, I mean yes Jonathan," she said, stammering.

* * *

To say that the young lady in the foyer did not conform to his expectations would be an understatement. She sat cross-legged on the waiting room couch wearing boots, tight pants, an extremely tight black dress and a lace choker. Around her neck hung a necklace of a symbol he couldn't recognize. The silver contrasted strongly against her flawless caramel skin and medium length curly hair. There was a subtle but definitely visible septum piercing, and she was made up like she was about to go clubbing on Halloween.

Oh my god, I'm interviewing a goth whore,

he thought. He swallowed the regret caught in the back of his throat and extended a hand.

"You must be Miss Williams," he said, putting on a half-assed smile. She returned it.

"Yes, and you must be Senator Delacroix," she said, briefly shaking his hand. He stared at her lips briefly as she spoke.

Born to suck dicks,

he thought.

"Please, call me Jonathan," he said. "May I call you Raven?"

"As you please," she replied. "Shall we head into your office?" she continued.

A little forward, but I can work with that,

he thought.

Not my usual type, but...

"So you know my wife," he said as they walked. Although Jonathan had humored his wife's request to meet Raven, he was going to have to confront her soon. On a whim, he'd glanced at his bank statement last week and noticed that there were several hotel charges, all on days that she'd told him that she was "going out with her friends".

Friends indeed. You'll get what's coming to you, fucking slut.

"Yes, quite well," she said tersely. "She's been very accommodating, and I owe her a great debt for this opportunity. And to you too, of course." She smiled. Jonathan opened the door to his office and gestured for Raven to enter. As she walked past, his eyes lingered on her round, firm ass.

God, these sluts do love to tease, don't they?

He closed the door behind them and they both took their seats.

"Now, Raven, could you tell me a bit about yourself?" he said, settling in.

"Sure Jonathan. Let me just grab out my resume. As a reference, you know?" she said, and leaned over into her bag. Jonathan heard her mumbling something underneath her breath, but couldn't make out what it was. He wasn't even sure if it was English, but it didn't sound like humming, either. He started tapping his finger on the desk unconsciously.

When Raven had finished mumbling, she sat back up in her chair, although there was no document in her hands. With her left hand, she traced out something in the air. With her other hand, she put her thumb up to the corner of her lips, and ran it across them in a smooth motion. Before his very eyes, the intensity of the Red on her Lips was amplified a thousand fold. It was almost blinding.

"What the fu..." he said, trailing off as he started to stare. It was the richest, deepest, brightest shade of Red he had ever seen in his life. He couldn't look away. He didn't want to look away. An eternity later, the Lips parted, and sound came out of them. It was such a wonderful sound.

"Do you like my lips, Senator?" he heard the angelic words, and was so preoccupied with enjoying them that it took him quite a long time to realize he'd been asked a question. The answer was effortless, though.

"Yesss," he replied. Watching the incredible Red Lips part, move, and reshape was his life now. Every glimmer of light bouncing off that perfect mouth was a jolt of contentment surging through his body. He scarcely noticed his own arousal, so intense was his focus.

"I'm so happy you to hear that. Your wife told me that you had a weakness for them," the Red Lips said. "It seems she was right." Raven stood up, and he stood to match her. She leaned forward, and he inched closer to them. He could never have conceived of looking at something so beautiful, so perfect in every way. The thought of touching them was almost more than he could bare. She moved to kiss him, and the anticipation was intolerable. At the very last moment, she pulled back.

"No, please..." he forced out. "I... I need..."

"

What do you need?" said the Red Lips.

"I need... them... you, I need to kiss..."

"What would you do for them?" they continued. He thought briefly, but it was a struggle.

"I..."

"Let me help. You'd do anything for them."

"Yes... anything..." he said. It felt right to say it.

"Good boy. Now, let's start off with something nice and easy. I'd like some privacy. Could you send everybody home for the day? I'd really appreciate it."

The words punctured straight into his brain.

Privacy... yes.

He stood up, and backed towards the door of the office, careful to never let his eyes leave the magnificent, divine Red lips.

"Senator, you're going to have to look away. But don't worry, they'll be right here waiting for you, just as soon as you do as you've been asked." The words burned true, but he tried to draw it out as long as he could. Taking his eyes off something so precious, so perfect, so important was the most painful thing he had ever been asked to do. "Don't leave me waiting, Jonathan," they said, and they blew him a kiss. The motion caused a surge of pleasure and obedience to run through his body. He had to obey, even if that meant looking away. He opened the door, took one last look, and turned.

Almost immediately, the fog in his mind started to lift slightly, but he was determined to carry out his orders. He noticed the world around him coming into focus more and more.

"Um, sir, are you alright?" asked Julie, looking frazzled and holding a small stack of printed pages.

"I'd like some privacy, Julie, take the day off."

"But sir, I just finished stapling all this documentation, you need it fo-"

"Do not question me," he said, cutting her off. He was furious.

Why doesn't she understand how important this is?

"Go home

now,

and tell Sandra to do the same." She didn't dare question him any further. She scurried off down the hall, and he almost sprinted back to the office.

Raven was sitting in his chair facing out the window. "Wait there for a moment," the Lips said as he pulled the door shut. He had to physically stop himself from jumping over the desk, getting in front of her, and basking in the glory of those sweet, sensuous Lips. It was the longest nine seconds of his life. "Come around and kneel in front of me," she finally said.

He moved as quickly as he could and dropped to the ground. He raised his eyes up and finally found what he was after. It was so much better when it was this close. The world faded away. The Red moved softly, but the words were nonsense. He distantly felt one of Raven's hand press down on the top of his head while the other made gestures in his periphery. Something changed. He wasn't sure what it was, but something was different.

Through the fog, the voice suddenly pierced his mind once again.

"I'm going to ask you to do something, and it's possibly not something you've ever done for a woman before in your life. Can you do that?" the Red said.

"Anything," he replied, "Anything you ask, I will do." His thoughts were frozen in place, but the answers came nevertheless.

"I'm going to ask you to

listen.

"

* * *

For an eternity, Jonathan drifted. He stared and he listened as the beautiful Red explained so many things to him. Eventually, he closed his eyes, but could still see it as clear as day. As more time passed, the sounds of the world slowly returned to him. There were thumps, and buzzing, and ringing. It came into focus again. He opened his eyes. His muscles ached, his mouth was dry and his knees were raw to a degree that he'd never experienced before. He awkwardly moved to stand up, but only made it to his chair. The buzzing sound was coming from his pocket - his cell phone. He reached in and moved to answer it.

"Hello," he said, his voice hoarse and raspy. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a slightly damp spot on the carpet where he'd been kneeling - drool maybe.

"Where the

fuck

have you been?" said Richard. "You don't answer the phone, your secretary doesn't answer the phone, your wife says you're at work, and I'm getting calls from the Independents wondering why the fuck you've stood them up!"

Jonathan was frozen with terror. He looked at the clock -

how long have I been sitting here?

It was nearly 4pm. The meeting was supposed to be four hours ago.

"I... I don't know what happened. I think I passed out or something."

"Well I hope it's brain cancer or something Jon, because they're really not happy. You might have just fucked this for us."

"I'll make this right," he said, suddenly panicking. "I swear I'll fix this."

Jonathan's head reeled.

What the fuck just happened?

His mind stretched back and tried to recall what had been going on for the last few hours.

I was interviewing Raven...

his brain almost seized up when it stumbled upon the thought of the stunning, flawless Red Lips. He knew those Lips had done something to him, but what? It was all too difficult to work out. He needed to focus on the task at hand. He sat back in the chair, leaned back and started trying to figure out how to pull out of the tailspin.